Etched in Bone Page 110

He had just enough time to register the weird-ass crazy look in Kowalski’s eyes. Then he was on the ground, struggling as Kowalski hauled his arms behind his back and handcuffed him. Then Kowalski stepped back, not trying to restrain him any further.

“You fucker!” Jimmy screamed as he rolled to his side. “This is harassment! This is— I’ll have your badge for this! I’ll have your ass for this!”

A girl with dark eyes and long black hair rushed out of a nearby shop, wearing nothing but a white slip.

“Officer Karl!” she said when she reached Kowalski. “What’s happening? Do you need help? Should I peck its eyes out?”

Jimmy stopped thrashing as if he were helpless and sat up. Peck its eyes out? What kind of shit talk was that?

“No, thanks, Jenni,” Kowalski replied, sounding way too calm when his eyes still had that weird-ass crazy look. “I’ve got it under control. But could you ask Officer Michael to bring me a large evidence bag and then call a patrol car? Tell him we need both ASAP.”

She pulled the slip over her head and let it fall. Nice body, Jimmy thought, momentarily distracted from the crazy-ass cop. Nice and naked and . . . Seeing downy feathers covering her pussy instead of normal hair creeped him out. Seeing her change into a large Crow and fly off creeped him out even more.

He didn’t know how long he sat on the ground. Felt like forever but couldn’t have been more than a minute or two before Debany came running and said a patrol car was on the way, before Kowalski and Debany hauled him to his feet and carefully put the roast in an evidence bag.

Evidence his ass. This was a shakedown. That’s what it was. They would haul him in; CJ would spring him because he hadn’t done anything wrong; and those two bastard cops would “lose” the evidence until they cooked it for dinner.

Full of righteous anger that he would blast at Captain Bastard Burke and CJ, he didn’t resist when Kowalski put him in the patrol car that pulled into the delivery area, then got in the front with some officer named Hilborn. No, he didn’t resist because he’d take this all the way up to the mayor’s office if he had to—and he’d do it before any of the scrapes and bruises caused by Kowalski slamming him to the ground had begun to fade. Yes, he would take this to the top, and when he was done, he wouldn’t have to pay for a single mouthful of food for the rest of his stay in Lakeside.

• • •

Meg watched the patrol car pull out onto Main Street with Lieutenant Montgomery’s brother in the back. Being taken in to the station wasn’t the same as being arrested. But given a limited number of images that could be used to convey a vision, would the prophecy cards make such a distinction? Or was it enough that someone was going to jail, even if the stay was temporary?

If that was the case, if this was the first part of what the cards had revealed, there had also been a death. Whose death?

She looked at Nathan, who watched her with an intensity that made her feel small and tasty—and made her glad being a blood prophet made her inedible.

That thought made her uneasy—and a little bit queasy.

“Do you know what’s going on?” she asked Nathan.

He didn’t answer, didn’t even try. But he seemed pleased about Cyrus Montgomery being taken away in handcuffs, and Meg wondered if whatever pleased Nathan was the reason Simon had avoided her since last night.

CHAPTER 20

Windsday, Messis 22

Monty walked into the interrogation room sick with fear. When he’d first caught sight of Kowalski as his partner hauled Jimmy into the station, he’d thought Karl had been hopped up on some kind of drug. And there was Jimmy with scrapes on his face and bruises already blooming, screaming that Kowalski was off-his-head crazy—and judging by the scared expression on Officer Hilborn’s face, Jimmy’s assessment of Kowalski might not be wrong.

Then Monty unwrapped the “roast” Jimmy had bought at the Market Square butcher shop and understood Kowalski’s behavior. He understood a lot of things as he slammed into a stall in the men’s restroom and threw up. Now he needed to convince Jimmy to give him the information he would never get from Simon Wolfgard—because Wolfgard had already sent a clear message that Jimmy was involved up to his neck in whatever had happened in the Courtyard last night.

Setting a closed folder on the table, Monty took a seat opposite his brother.

“Look what that bastard Kowalski did to me,” Jimmy shouted, waving a hand at his own face. “You better fry his ass for this, CJ, or I’ll raise a stink that will smell right up to the mayor’s office in this fucking city.”

“Have you made out a will?” Monty asked quietly.

“What? Are you listening to me? Kowalski—”

“Have you made any provision for your wife and children? Is there any legal document I should know about?”

Jimmy stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Whatever you did this time, you might not survive it.”

“I didn’t—”

Captain Burke walked into the room. He closed the door, walked up to the table, and pressed his hands flat against the surface, all his attention on Jimmy.

“Your brother shouldn’t do this interview,” Burke said. “But I figured you would lie and stall and wheedle and waste everyone’s time if I had anyone else asking the questions. I’m not willing to waste anyone’s time, especially mine. So this is what is going to happen. Lieutenant Montgomery is going to have ten minutes to get information from you about an incident that occurred last night. I’m going to be standing on the other side of that glass, listening. If I’m convinced that you’ve provided accurate information, you’ll be free to leave. If I’m not convinced, you’ll be charged with mishandling human remains, accessory to murder, and cannibalism. And you will be relocated to a secure, undisclosed location by nightfall—the kind of place people like you never leave. I can, and will, make that happen.” He straightened and stepped away from the table, finally looking at Monty. “Your ten minutes starts now.”

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